Regina's Scar
by JennMaryn
Summary: "You know," the suited man continued, leaning on his cane, his smile still tugging at his lips in that manner she knew he had. "That is one beasty scar you've got yourself. Where ever did you get it?"


"Gold."

Regina let the door shut behind her, the bell tingling with the quiet intensity of her entrance. With a wrinkled brow and a fire in her eyes, a black fire that burned evermore and changed degrees depending on context, she stepped forward, her stilettos echoing against the mahogany of the pawn shop floor.

She looked around, frowning. Old trinkets hung from the walls and ceiling; ornaments adorned the walls. Puppets stared back at her, but the owner was nowhere to be found.

"Gold!" She commanded again, harshly, approaching the front desk and scanning behind it. She narrowed her eyes and let her hand slide against the glass before turning around, about to exit the front of the shop and find him in the back, where he almost certainly was.

"No need to yell, dearie; I'm quite adept at hearing."

And he appeared, hobbling out from behind a large pile of birdhouses on the side of the shop. Regina turned, facing the voice.

"Forgive me for saying so, but you and I both know the proper name," Rumpelstiltsken continued, his mouth in a playful smirk; the kind he used to egg others on.

"Or do you still have a lick of trouble pronouncing it?"

"I have a few other choice words I could call you, if you'd rather," Regina said smoothly, still frowning, and then leaned on a shelf in front of him, glaring deeply into his dark eyes. She had no time for games. "The _spell_ book. What's wrong with it."

Rumpelstiltsken did not move an inch, nor did his smile fade as he answered her. "I do say you'll have to give me more specifics if you want me to answer that one."

Regina curled her lip, holding her glare. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, you mean the spell book _you_ took from _me_ in such confidence that it'd make your magic work again?"

_"That part was no trouble,"_ Regina thought, but settled on something different; she was sure he already knew exactly why she had come here.

"**Enough** games. The book itself has magic emanating from it at different parts of the day. Magic that is unfamiliar to both you and I."

"Quite a bold statement on your part, wouldn't you agree."

"You tell me," she sneered. "You're the one who taught me."

Rumpelstiltsken said nothing; his smile sunk into his face, but he did not cower, simply listened.

"You're a resourceful young woman, your majesty. But that book is no longer any of my concern. In case you're no longer aware, _you_ took it from _me_."

"It's _**your**_ book."

"Alas, your eyes told a different tale."

Regina closed them, pursed her lips in frustration, and then re-opened them.

"You and I both know that stray, unbending magic that neither of us can harness is _not_ good news."

Rumpelstiltsken's eyes flashed with equal challenge; equal seriousness, and equal intensity.

"Then learn how to harness it."

Regina tilted her head. "You're not concerned."

"Are you asking me for _advice_, your majesty?"

They stared at each other for several long moments.

"Just like the old days. I'm beginning to feel a bit nostalgic," he quipped, breaking the silence and starting to shift his weight on his cane.

Regina stuck her arm out across the shelf and pushed onto his shoulder quickly, preventing him from moving away. Glaring at him, clenching her bottom jaw, she spoke.

"If we can't solve this, there will be repercussions. And _not_ just from me."

Rumpelstiltsken stopped; his mouth twitched, and he spoke again in a voice soft enough just for her to hear.

"The book is your responsibility."

"I can't _do_ anything about it." She sounded desperate. "Some of us could be killed if this gets out of hand. I _know_ you don't want that to happen."

"Then learn to harness the magic, dearie, before it's too late."

Regina let go of him; he slid back from her, gently, silently. His face fell into a less serious expression, and he raised both brows at her.

". . . Do you . . . _know_ anything about the nature of thi-" Rumpelstiltsken interrupted her before she could continue.

"I don't know anything!" He cut in, grinning, his old self, psychotic and over the top, shining through. "I've told you. The choice is yours. Learn how to harness this new magic the book emanates, or leave it all to chance."

Regina, eyes still narrowed, forced herself not to swallow.

"But I do warn you," he continued. "Unharnessed magic, when left unharnessed, can do a number on the soul." His eyes shone a bit, looking at her. His look said something more than what he suggested. His look said, to her, _"Learn."_

Regina stared for a few moments longer, trying to decipher what he knew. He knew more; she could tell. Shaking her head, she began to walk away, turning around in one swift motion. He was not going to help her, whether he did or didn't know any back information about this new magic from the scripture book of ancient spell language, it did not matter ...

"You know," the suited man continued, leaning on his cane, his smile still tugging at his lips in that manner she knew he had. "That is one beast-y scar you've got yourself. Where ever did you get it?"

* * *

_"Use it, Regina."_

_"I don't know how," Regina said, quietly, watching as her mother lifted seven wine glasses off of the table with her levitation spell, her palm luminous with purple light and her eyes just as ravenous, satisfied with her own power._

_"So you lied to me. You haven't been practicing."_

_Regina swallowed, saying nothing. She hadn't tried to learn the spell her mother had been demonstrating. She had been too occupied with riding lately._

_"Try it."_

_"I-I can't," she said again, looking up at her mother now, still frowning. She regained her composure and felt herself snarling a bit. "I can't. I don't know how."_

_Cora stared at her, expressionless, the wine glasses still levitating gently in front of her. The high pitched sound of the spell rung in Regina's ears, and she looked at the glasses, bitterly, pathetically._

_"Do it, Regina. **Now**."_

_Regina, recognizing the whiplashes in her mother's last word, lifted her palm slowly. An eighth wine glass had been left alone on the table, awaiting her attempt. She stared at the glass, grit her teeth, and willed it to move with all of her might ... but it was no use, and Regina couldn't move it an inch. Maybe if her mother had given her some _instruction_ ..._

_Releasing a large breath, she lowered it, panting. "I can't, mother. I can't do it."_

_Cora blinked lazily, shaking her head. "If you had practiced, like I told you, you would be able to do it."_

_Regina couldn't look at her mother. She stared at the luxurious rug instead, her shoulders heaving with frustration as she took sharp breaths in through her nose._

_"What will it take to get you to understand, Regina?" Cora spoke as if she were two years old, a slight twinge of her eyebrows. "You were born with an inclination for magic. You are the only one in this family other than me that can use it, and yet, you continue prancing around on your horse like a child. You are wasting your talent."_

_"Mama, I-"_

_Cora raised her other palm, and Regina fell silent immediately._

_"What will it take to get you to understand?"_

_"I ... understand, mother," she said, quietly. "But I ... don't ... like magic."_

_It was a very brave choice of words, but Regina hated what magic did to her. Magic was pain. Her mother was pain._

_Cora stood, her spell still in effect, staring at her only daughter._

_"Perhaps," she added, calmly, "if I added a little urgency to inspire you."_

_Regina rose her head, furrowing her brow, meeting her mother's eyes. But before she could speak, Cora flicked her wrist, and the glasses began vibrating. Backing up, Regina's heart caught._

_She threw an arm up to protect her forehead as the first skidded past her and smashed into the wall. The others followed subsequently, flying at her at the same time, and Regina backed into it, squeezing her eyes shut as they skyrocketed straight for her face._

_"Mother! I can't do it!" She screamed in a panic. The shattered pieces, which had, somehow, all just missed her, began circling her and brushing against her shoulder. Some made U Turns in the air and flew at her again, causing her to throw her arms up once more. But none of the glasses hit her._

_"Mother! Stop!" She tried again, refusing to open her eyes._

_And Cora did, bringing her arm up in one smooth motion. Every single piece stopped moving, stopped glowing, and fell to the floor as if they had simply been dropped._

_Regina slowly opened both eyes and lowered her arm._

_"Next time," Cora said, "they don't miss. So I suggest you learn how to control them before then."_

* * *

_Regina, standing atop of the hill, pulled the pieces out of her satchel and swallowed. She wished she did not have to try with the potentially painful objects, but spells had specific properties, and required specific mentalities for each and every type of material. She needed to get the exact incantation right with the exact objects if she wanted to control them._

_She set the broken wine glasses in the grass and stood, staring at them. She had been reading up on the spell all throughout the morning through her mother's book; refusing to look at any other pages. Perhaps, she thought, if she could just impress her mother with this one spell, perhaps if she could just do one at a time …_

_This was it. It was time for the field work. Regina lifted a shaky hand in front of her and concentrated, remembering everything she had read. _"Taste the material, feel the material, smell the material and will the material. Use your upper index finger. Do not distract; do not weaken. Do not think of other matters. The spell will will the object when you will yourself … "

_The pieces suddenly darted up into the air and flew out at random angles, causing Regina to jump back and lose her focus. She clenched her palm and her eyes widened as the most jagged fragment came flying straight for her lip, vibrating violently and finishing with a harsh uppercut, as if it had a mind of its own. Regina could not suppress her tiny yelp as she fell backwards. Every other piece, miraculously, had avoided her, and fell to the ground as her spell ended._

_Regina didn't move for a long minute. Slowly, she reached up and felt her lip with her pointer finger. The pain shot almost up to her nose; her lip had definitely been parted. She could taste blood, but strangely enough, it felt almost like a nosebleed . . . she pulled her finger away and stared at the crimson liquid on her hand. Blood was now dripping to the soil in front of her._

_What an ugly sight she must be._

_She would keep trying._

* * *

"Your majesty."

Regina, realizing she was still standing in the pawn shop, shook her head and blinked once. She turned around to look at him, glared, and addressed him one last time.

"Don't worry. I'll _learn_," she spat.

With that, she walked out, pursing her lips, suddenly aware of the crease it left on the upper one as she did._ Curses, Gold_. She became aware of this annoyance only when she remembered.


End file.
